Fuck me once, I’ll fuck you twice … then I’ll bury you.No prison can keep me from seeking revenge. Especially when it comes to her.
She, the woman who put me in jail.
I swore that I’d come for her, to claim what belongs to me: Her life.
I’m not a good man. On the contrary, I love to be bad. It’s in my veins. Just like it’s in my veins to ruin her.
She’s an actress, pretending to be a saint, but we both know that isn’t true. One way or another, she’ll pay for what she did.
I will hunt for her. Make her fear me. Make her body mine.
Bad deeds never go unpunished … And I always go out with a bang.WARNING: This book is a DARK ROMANCE STANDALONE – it has a non-conventional ending. This isn’t rainbow sprinkles & unicorn fluff. It’s a dark, thrilling journey of two people clashing over love, lust, and hatred. Heed the warning. Contains graphic violence, alcohol, drugs & other disturbing content.

I use the knife as a marker, drawing a pattern without drawing blood. Her eyes anxiously follow the tip, as if she’s trying to prepare for something. The thing is that she’ll never know when it’s coming. That look on her face, priceless. So torturous, the way she’s unraveling bit by bit … it’s like food for my soul.Sweat trickles down her skin, and then when I let the tip puncture her skin just a tiny bit, she squeals. But I know it doesn’t hurt that much. I’ve tried this on myself plenty of times. Always have to know what the things I do to my victims feel like. Of course, the fear is taking over her sense of rationalizing. She’s letting it control her instead of experiencing it for what it is. Fear is excitement. Fear is a part of our souls. Fear makes us feel alive.And she should be grateful that she’s still alive.It’s all in my hands. With one slice, I could kill her right here, right now. But I don’t.Instead, I lean in and suckle the blood off her skin, kissing her softly, letting my tongue slide all across her belly.She squirms underneath me; her body arches to meet my mouth, but her mind is still focusing on the fear.“Stop thinking, Vanessa,” I say. “It’s not doing you any good right now.”“What are you doing?” she asks.“What does it look like?” I say, ripping off her skirt so I can see her pretty pussy. “I’m enjoying you to the fullest.”“By sucking my blood?”I frown, waving the knife in the air. “You know, you should really consider the fact that I could’ve killed you already. You might want to think about that as I gorge myself on your pussy.”She swallows. “What’s to say that you won’t kill me now?”I smile. “I just like seeing the fear in your eyes, Princess. Nothing more.” I bring the knife to my mouth and lick the blade. I can taste her blood, and my own, as the sharpness cuts through my own flesh, but I don’t care. I’m lost in ecstasy, living on the edge, wanting to jump off with her.She shivers, her lips quivering as I bring the knife down to her face. “C’mon sweet cheeks, smile for me,” I say.The right side of her lip curls up into a fake smile, which does not move me even one bit. Damn her; normally, she’s as fake as can be, able to perform without flaw, and now real emotions suddenly overcome her?Fuck her.I ram the knife into the table next to her head, causing her to close her eyes. “Look at me,” I say. “Open your eyes, Princess.”They peel open slowly. “Please … Phoenix.”“Please what? You don’t like it when I want to lick the blood from your skin? You should be flattered.”She shakes her head.“I don’t fucking believe you,” I snap, grabbing her pussy with one hand, which makes her jolt up. “I bet this pussy here will tell me the truth.”“No,” she says, still shaking.“What are you so afraid of?” I muse. “This knife? Blood? Pain? Death? What?”“You.”The way she says it, without any doubt, takes me by surprise, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. I thought she’d say pain, or even death, but instead, she says something that causes my heart to shrivel up and die. At least, it feels like that. Like my heart is burning a hole in her chest. That or her eyes. Either way, I’m fucked now. I started feeling something I shouldn’t have.I lean in to look her in the eyes. “Can’t you feel the excitement rushing through your body? The adrenaline pumping through your veins? Isn’t it so much better than the lifeless statue-like doll you’ve been these past few years?”“I …” she stutters. “I don’t know.”“Your heart does. And so does your pussy.” I slide my fingers along her slit, which is already warm and wet. “It craves the thrill. You crave life. Real life. Not the fake kind. The kind that could get you killed,” I whisper close to her ear. “And I’m gonna give it to you.”I back away, leaving her eyes full of fear and doubt as I stand up straight and focus my attention on her pussy. It’s all I know, all I can think of that will make her submit. That will make her stop thinking about all the things she thinks she wants and focus on the things she really desires. Me.It’s always been me.She doesn’t have to say it. I can see it in her eyes. I can taste it in her fear.She wants me … and I’m going to give her everything I have.

1. What kind of book is Stalker?Stalker is a Dark Romantic Suspense, filled with hate, lies, lust, sex, and much, much more. ;) It’s not for the faint-hearted, but I promise you, if you sit through it, it will be worth it!2. Where do you get your ideas?I get my ideas from movies, books, and sometimes even the stories people tell me. I love drawing inspiration from things I’ve seen or witnessed in the past. Sometimes, ideas can also just spring into my mind out of nowhere, it’s like they just appear. It’s amazing. Once I have an idea, it still takes month to take the form of a book, though. Usually it begins with a ‘what if’ question, a few characters, bits and pieces of action or things that happen … and the before I know it, there’s a complete story on my desk!3. What’s the hardest part of the writing process?The hardest part would be the creation of the storyline. The idea always begins with flashes, little scenes, but for a book I have to string those scenes together to form a coherent story. Sometimes, I have to shift around the scenes, or change course in the middle, but in the end it always turns out to be perfect! :)4. What do you always need to have with you when you write?I always need to have my bottle of water with me when I write, as well as some peace & quite, and some good music. ;) I also love to have a cup of hot tea next to me, but it’s not a requirement to write an awesome book!5. You’re book is going to be made into a movie. Who play the lead roles?For Stalker, I would say Michael Malarkey as Phoenix (With some added piercings and tattoos), and Candice Accola as Vanessa. As actors, those two match the best, but I didn’t style my characters after actors. My real role models are Stephen James & Mikkel Jensen for Phoenix, and Marina, from Marina And The Diamonds (the singer) for Vanessa.6. What books can we expect from you in the future?My next book will most likely be Twenty-One (21), and it has someone from Stalker in the leading role. I won’t tell you who, but you can find out pretty easily when you read the book ;) It’s going to be super exciting, you can check it out here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25143793-twenty-one7. Any final words for fans out there?Thank you so much for reading my books, and make sure to pick up your copy of Stalker to get the complete story of Vanessa & Phoenix! It’s going to be one heck of a ride! :) http://bit.ly/stalkeramazon

AUTHOR BIO:
Clarissa Wild is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. Her novels include the Fierce Series, the Delirious Series, and Stalker. She is also a writer of erotic romance such as the Blissful Series, The Billionaire's Bet series, and the Enflamed Series. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.

Aaron closed his eyes and absorbed the warmth of Fiona’s arms around his neck. Her silky hair tickled his skin and filled the air with the fragrance of cherries from her shampoo. Just her touch pushed back the darkness that had threatened to overwhelm him. Much of the time he could keep his terrible memories locked away, but occasionally something would rise from the mire and he’d be right back there, reliving a shooting he’d witnessed, or worse.He gathered Fiona’s hands in his and lifted them to his lips. He’d been such a fool. When he first went undercover, he’d imagined coming to tell her about it afterwards like some movie star playing at being a detective. The reality had shocked him. In the last six years, hardly a day had passed when he wasn’t terrified he’d be found out and killed. And the deeper he got, the more he had to play the role. He’d felt like he was digging his own grave and burying himself.“Talk to me if it’ll help,” she whispered.“I’m not allowed to until it’s come to trial and the cases are over.” Even then he wouldn’t want to tell her, wouldn’t want to disgust her and shock her. He kissed her hands again. “You’re sweet and good and everything that’s right with this world. I need to keep you separate from the darkness.”

Excerpt from His Promise

There wasn’t a day that Kim hadn’t loved Bruce. Never in a million years had she doubted that they would be together. At seventeen, they were inseparable. She couldn’t imagine, as she stared up at the thousands of stars in the dark Montana sky not kissing Bruce or feeling his touch on every other day like this one, when she would gaze up at the light of the moon or the bright blue sky.But then, you never forget the taste of your first love. He touched her the way no other man could. It was imprinted on her soul—the way she molded against him, skin to skin, with each breath. Each moment with him, kissing, touching, or just talking, the sound of his voice melted her soul and had her yearning to see him again before he even left.She didn’t believe her lips would ever forget the taste of his love. His touch, his smile, the light in his hazel eyes when he held her face in his hands the very first time he’d kissed her—it was all burned forever in her memory.Like yesterday.“Hey, baby.” He came up behind her, sliding his hand over the flat of her stomach. He lifted her hair and pressed a kiss to her cheek before sliding his lips down the soft skin on her neck. He was pulling her back with him into the shadows.“Where are you taking me?” she asked, then giggled. She couldn’t help it, as he had his hand under her shirt. He’d pulled the long cotton fabric free from the waistband of her jeans and was running his hand over her skin. His belt buckle was pressing into her. She craved the feel of him all the time and mourned his touch when he was gone.“Where your daddy can’t find us,” he said. He had his hand on the rail of the wooden ladder that led up to the loft. “Go on.”She didn’t hesitate as she climbed the rail. She could hear the tractor purring in the field. The sound carried, so she knew as long as she could hear it in the distance, they had time alone. “You weren’t supposed to be here today,” she said. “You said you couldn’t come, that you had to pack.”He pulled her to their space in the loft where the hay bales were stacked against the dark planks. She climbed over the two bales and into their hidden spot, a bed of hay with an old blanket thrown overtop. It was where they always met, where they hid out together. It was where they’d met last night, when she’d snuck out of the house after her parents were asleep. It was where they’d last been together—touching, tasting, exploring each other.“I couldn’t leave without seeing you again.” He pulled her down with him so they were lying side by side. Her body had a mind of its own and responded to Bruce, moving closer to him, her legs tangled with his, her hands pulling at his shirt, kissing him as she threaded her fingers through his short brown hair. She loved his hair, how it too seemed to do whatever it wanted. The natural waves always had that messy bad-boy look, and every time he cut it, it made the smile that lit up his face and his eyes stand out on his cheeks. And his lips…full and so kissable. Oh, and could Bruce kiss. She loved his long, lean body, his legs, how much taller he was than her—how much stronger. She truly believed he was forever hers, and he wouldn’t let anything come between them.But she was wrong. Oh so wrong.“Just one more kiss,” he said as he leaned over her. “I need to know you’ll wait for me.”“You know I will. I wish you didn’t have to go.” She wanted to cry. It would be ninety-three days of hell until she could feel his touch again, feel his lips on her again, feel his love again. Life was so unfair.“Kim! Kim!” It was her mother calling out.“I have to go, but I don’t want to,” she said, rolling onto her back, her hands above her head.He kissed her one more time and pulled a strand of hay from her hair. “I’ll call you. I promise I will. Baby, remember I fall in love with you over and over every single day. Nothing will comebetween us. Remember this, feel this.” He took her hand and pressed it to his beating heart. “It’s for you, only for you, that my heart beats. This moment, the way you look now, the blueness in your eyes and how they smile only for me and beg me into your loving arms, the way your long hair teases me and has that curly, messy look even when you try to brush it straight…”Not a day had gone by without her remembering those last moments together—almost twenty years ago, now. She’d promised to be his forever…that was, until she married someone else.

Sweet revenge keeps her alive … and drives her to kill.I am the forgotten one, the girl who was left for dead.In this mental hospital I call prison I plot my revenge.I remember everything.Their faces. Their touch. Even their smell.What they did to me was beyond cruel. I’m going to return the favor.In here I survive by using someone just as they used me. One of them wants to claim me as his own. A man without mercy, without a conscience, craving the wickedness inside me. But I won’t be a puppet for his desires. I will play his strings like a puppeteer and use him to escape.And when I do … I will kill them all.This is Ashley's story and the final book in the Delirious Series. This is a full-length novel. These books should be read in order.WARNING: This book contains very disturbing situations, strong language, dubious consent, and graphic violence.

Excerpt

I stomp on his balls so hard he squeals like a pig.“Aw.” I laugh out loud. “Look at you, screaming like a little girl.”“Please, stop. Don’t do this,” he grunts, heaving.“Why would I? You never did.” I lean in, grab him by the hair, and pull back. “All you fuckers are the same, thinking you can get away with stealing someone’s innocence.”“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he sputters over and over again.“You should have thought of that before you jingled your balls, dude.”“I can’t change the past, but I am sorry. I’m so sorry …” he whimpers.“Stop. You’re pathetic, but it won’t make me go easy on you. So just stop the crying. It doesn’t work on me.”“Please.” Suddenly, he grabs my hand. “I’ll do anything. It doesn’t have to be like this. I can change it all.”I jerk my hand free. “No, you can’t. It’s too late for any of that.” I grab my bag and start rummaging through it, but he tries to scramble up and leave. As I finally find what I’m looking for, a pair of cuffs and a stapler, I walk toward him and kick him in the back. I hear something snap, and a god-awful sound explodes from his mouth.He falls to the ground with a flop, screaming his lungs out.“Whoops.” I laugh. “I guess you don’t like Brokeback Mountain. The mountain being me, in this case. Television ain’t all that, now is it?”He cries out as I haul him back to the couch and cuff him to the heater. His hand is so close he screams even more.“Burn, motherfucker,” I say, chuckling to myself.“Please!” he begs.“Please, end your life quicker?” I ask, leaning in with raised brows.He nods quickly, trembling in place.I shake my head. “No.”“Yes,” he pleads.“No.” I frown. “But I guess you don’t understand that word, now do you?”He shakes his head even more so.I shrug. “Oh well, it’s time for you to learn what it means when you don’t listen and use someone for your own pleasure.”I place the stapler on the table and search through my bag until I find a pair of scissors, which are so sharp the blade cuts me when I reach for it. His eyes almost bulge out of his head as he sees me grab all these tools. I smile at him, fascinated by the decline of his sanity. Or mine. I’m not sure.

Clarissa Wild is the USA Today Bestselling author of FIERCE, a college romance series, but she's best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. She is also a writer of erotic romance such as the Blissful Series, The Billionaire's Bet series, the Doing It Series and the Enflamed Series. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.Check out my sexy books:http://smarturl.it/clarissawildbooks